


chipping away at the mask

by namiru



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Friendship, Gen, basically lots of team bonding & happy times!, pre-timeskip spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-09-01 00:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namiru/pseuds/namiru
Summary: The Blue Lions face one of their toughest challenges yet: attempting to pry a rare, practically non-existent smile from their stoic professor.





	chipping away at the mask

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank FE3H for personally giving me my inspiration to write! No uni giving me more time to write helped too, I guess.
> 
> I started this fic around the end of my Blue Lions run a while back and got around to finishing it after feeling the pain from having to fight them in my Golden Deer run. I just [clenches fist] want the Blue Lions to be happy and safe.
> 
> Also, this fic has not been beta read so I apologise for any mistakes! That said, I hope you enjoy reading <3

“Professor!”

The sudden exclamation, combined with two sets of rattling china being thrust upon his desk, was enough to make him startle and send his quill flying across the page.

A glance at the thick line of ink cutting across the neatly written answers was enough to make him wince, as if he could already feel the impending displeasure from the student whose work he had ultimately destroyed.

“Oh no,” a panicked voice muttered, gaining his attention. He raised his head to see a shaken Annette, staring at the sullied parchment in horror. “No, no, no. Professor, I am so sorry.” Her hands frantically hovered over the parchment, searching for some kind of nonexistent remedy to salvage it. “You weren’t supposed to get such a fright...I-I mean, we didn’t intend to—”

Feeling a familiar throbbing beginning to make itself known in the back of his head, he silenced her with a raise of his hand and slight shake of his head. “No, it’s—” ‘Fine’ wasn’t the best word to use, considering the situation most certainly was not _fine_ in any way shape or form. He paused and reconsidered his words. “I’ll see to it that it’s fixed.”

Annette still looked as white as a sheet. “...If you don’t mind me asking, Professor. Um, who does that assignment belong to?”

He glanced at the name carefully inscribed at the top of the page, confirming his suspicions and subsequent dread. “Ingrid.” As patient and composed as the young pegasus knight was, he could already imagine the look of despair on her face upon being forced to inform her of this...accident. He just hoped her composure would hold out long enough to prevent those feelings of displeasure from turning into something more akin with fury.

“Oh dear,” Mercedes spoke from beside her friend, noting Byleth to her presence. Her hands nervously wrung together as she met his eyes. “Our deepest apologies, Professor.” She made to turn on her heel. “I will inform Ingrid of this right away.”

“No, don’t.” At Byleth’s words, she paused and gave a small tilt of her head, confused. “Please. I shall be the one to tell her. Just…” He ran a hand over his face and sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me what I can help you both with.”

Annette remained stricken as she nervously pushed a plate of baked goods towards him, or at least as far as the various documents strewn across his desk would allow. Mercedes followed suit with the saucer and teacup in front of her. “We, um,” Annette began, avoiding his gaze, “thought you might like a treat.”

Byleth stared at the offered goods, silent and expression blank.

The shuffle of Annette’s shoes against the cobbled floor was the only sound to fill the room for a few awkward moments before Mercedes cleared her throat and chimed in.

“We’ve seen how hard you been pushing yourself lately, Professor. From supplying us with our equipment, to giving us all after hour seminars. You even allowed yourself to be thrown from a horse to help Sylvain with his training.”

Byleth barely suppressed a shudder. The memory of being covered in a mixture of mud, hay and other questionable substances, of a sharp pain running down the length of his back, and the incredulous stares of his students, was one he had forcefully attempted to forget. Though Sothis seemed more than delighted to remind him of it every chance she got. 

Mercedes gave a gentle smile, moving a collection of papers aside and inching the tea closer. “So, we wished to show our appreciation for you and your hard work.”

“R-Right!” Annette began, her hunched frame straightening with an air of confidence once again. “We thought something to help you relax would be beneficial, so I hunted down various herbs and roots, with a little help from Dedue.” She glanced at her best friend and beamed. “Then Mercie infused them into her cookie recipe, and voilá!”

“The tea is also my own special blend,” Mercedes added. “Not many people have tried it before, Professor, so make sure to give me your honest thoughts.”

With two sets of expectant eyes on him, Byleth had no choice but to reach for the cup with one hand, while the other picked up one of the flower-shaped cookies. At least, he assumed they were flowers, despite the one in his hand looking like it was missing a petal or two.

His confusion must have shown on his face as Annette nervously cleared her throat and kept her gaze fixated on the wall. “We, uh, tried to shape them into flowers.” She motioned towards the cookie in his hand. “If you couldn’t tell, the one you’re holding is mine. Mercie did a much better job.”

Mercedes giggled and shook her head. “I think yours turned out wonderful, Annie. They look so very unique and unlike any flower I’ve ever seen before.”

The sincerity in her voice wasn’t enough to mask the hidden, albeit unintentional, meaning, and Annette winced, suddenly finding fascination with the floor.

Unable to bear the uncomfortable atmosphere that came with his student’s discontent, Byleth busied himself with the matter at hand and took a swift bite of the cookie.

The sound drew the attention of both his students, who now stared at him like a hawk; gauging every little expression.

Byleth attempted to ignore their unwavering looks by instead focusing on the multitude of tastes he was currently experiencing. First came the expected sweetness, mixed together with a hint of vanilla which, when combined, pleased his sweet tooth greatly. After that, however, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

Mercedes was one of the most skilled bakers in the academy, there was no doubt about that. Yet, upon hearing that medicinal plants had somehow been successfully woven into the recipe left him feeling nervous, and he braced himself for what he assumed would be a shockingly bitter taste. 

But, thankfully, his fears never came to pass. Instead, he was greeted with an equally sweet taste that melded perfectly with the base recipe, with a hint of something else he couldn’t name. Regardless, he finished the cookie—making sure to take his time with prying eyes still upon him—and gave a satisfied hum.

“So,” Annette began, grin slowly widening as she brought her fists to her chest in anticipation, “does that mean the cookies were a success?”

Byleth hummed again and was about to give his opinion when Mercedes’ hand gently pushed his own, moving the teacup closer to his mouth. The scent of chamomile filled his senses immediately.

“Now take a sip of this to wash it all down.”

Slightly bewildered but adamant to not let it show, he did as instructed and quickly felt a warm sense of relief run through him. While it didn’t quite ease the thumping in his head, it alleviated some of the tension in his body he had unknowingly built up over the course of grading assignments.

“Glad to see the furrow in your brow is gone, Professor,” Mercedes commented as he set the cup down on the saucer. 

Byleth nodded. “Your blend is very soothing. And the cookies were lovely too. Thank you, both of you. That was a delightful treat.”

A loud cheer from Annette and pleased chuckle from Mercedes told him that his praise was taken to heart.

Content, he picked up his quill and, with a dejected sigh, pushed Ingrid’s tarnished work to the side and picked up the next assignment in the pile. He almost panicked when he couldn’t locate a second page, but then realised just _who’s_ work he was holding. Felix’s answers were always short and concise, unlike both of his blonde childhood friends’, yet somehow managed to always meet the required criteria. 

A loud sneeze cut through his concentration, and his head flew up.

Annette stared back, hands covering her face as a trail of red began to rapidly move up her neck and colour her cheeks. “E-Excuse me.”

Byleth blinked. “Bless you.”

Annette mumbled a small ‘thank you’, while Mercedes gazed at him with her warm smile and an expectant look in her eyes. 

“Um,” Byleth began rather ineloquently. He turned back to Annette, who had also taken to staring at him with expectation in her eyes by peeking through the gaps in her fingers. “Was there something else you wished to discuss?”

They didn’t reply, just continued to stare directly at his face, leaning forward ever so slightly with each passing second. Byleth loudly cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat, hoping it would be enough to convey the uneasiness he felt.

Either it was successful, or they had achieved whatever they were after, as they simultaneously moved back with a sigh and shared an unreadable look with each other.

“No, Professor, that was all,” Mercedes spoke, giving a polite bow of her head. “We’ll leave the cookies and tea here, so indulge as much as you’d like.”

Byleth gave a slow nod, still trying to gauge their odd behaviour. “Thank you.”

“Maybe we should bake some more for Ingrid, Mercie,” Annette pondered, eyeing the assignment once again. “I have a feeling she might need them.”

Mercedes hummed. “I agree. Well then, it’s back to the kitchens for us. Enjoy the rest of your day, Professor.”

“And, once again, I am so sorry about the assignment,” Annette added, before giving a deep bow and following her friend out of the class.

Byleth watched them go, a small frown tugging at his lips. But he had more important business at hand than ponder over the strange behaviour of his students, and he returned to his initial work.

* * *

A few days later, he had a redraft from Ingrid in hand as he walked back to his quarters.

Thankfully, anger hadn’t reared its head as he had explained the accident, choosing to exclude mention of the students who had inadvertently caused it, and requested a new copy from the girl. However, her smile had been strained as she handed it over, and she had left for the training grounds without another word, her pace brisk.

Once in his room, he sat down at his desk and went to work. After all, he had promised his students that their work would be returned to them first thing during tomorrow's class.

With many of Ingrid’s answers being similar to the ones initially given, it hadn’t taken too long to complete the task. Placing the final, rather high mark at the top of the page, he filed it away with the other assignments and leaned back in his chair, allowing his muscles to stretch from where they had been hunched over.

“Another box checked on your to-do list,” Sothis’ voice chimed in. He turned his head slightly to see her peering over his shoulder, looking at the papers on his desk, before turning to face him with an approving hum. “I must say, you’ve become rather efficient since you took on this teaching role.”

Byleth didn’t really know how to reply, so he chose to stay silent and work out the numbness in his fingers brought about from holding the quill for so long.

Sothis floated around to his other side, lightly tapping his cheek with one of her fingers. “So, what’s next on the list? Shopping for weapons? Holding another after hours seminar? Being poked and prodded by that strange, crest-obsessed professor again?”

Byleth suddenly stood from the chair, making the girl jump back in surprise. “Actually, I was going to head to the greenhouse and plant those seeds I received from that soldier earlier today.”

“Oh!” Sothis seemed shocked for a brief moment, before her whole demeanor brightened. “Well, I certainly have no objections to a bit of downtime. Besides, looking at all of the different flowers is relaxing, in its own way.” She clapped her hands together. “Very well. Shall we be off—”

A knock at the door cut her off. She turned to give it an offended look before sighing and giving Byleth a displeased stare. “You better get that.”

To say he was confused would be an understatement, especially considering that neither the students nor teachers had ever stopped by his personal quarters in all his months of teaching. Regardless, he nodded and moved towards the door.

He had barely twisted the handle and inched the door open before a figure brazenly pushed their way through the small gap, causing him to stumble back slightly.

“Hey, Professor! Seems like we got the right room after all.”

Another figure quickly pushed their way into the room. “Sylvain! You can’t just go barging into someone’s room like that.”

Sylvain shrugged, shaking his head. “He probably would have let us in, anyway.” He turned to Byleth and grinned. “Right, Professor?”

Byleth pondered being blunt before settling on a change of subject. “I assume you’re here to ask something of me?”

Sylvain’s grin grew as he nodded and placed his hands behind his head. “Bingo. Although, it’s not anything like asking for extra classes or training. We were about to head into town and wondered if you’d like to accompany us?”

Byleth tried to find the hidden favour in that statement. “To town?”

“Yes, we were going to do a bit of shopping before stopping by the new restaurant that just opened to grab some dinner,” Ashe spoke up from where he had been silently observing. He gave a nervous smile. “Although, if you are busy, we understand if you must decline—”

“But,” Sylvain interjected, “you’d be missing out on a pretty memorable evening. I hear the food they serve at the restaurant has blown the expectations of many a critic out of the water.”

Sothis was quick to make her own opinion clear, with varied renditions of _‘Go. It’ll be fun!’ _ and her own desires to experience such high-class dining. Really, Byleth didn’t have much choice in the matter, lest he face a constant flurry of disappointed, chiding remarks for the rest of the night.

“Very well,” he finally answered, turning to give his full attention to his students. “I will accept your invitation.”

Ashe blinked, bewildered, as if not expecting that answer so readily. “Really?”

Sylvain, on the other hand, gave a laugh and affectionately whacked Byleth’s shoulder. “That’s what I like to hear, Professor.” He made his way back towards the door, holding it open as he turned to face them. “Shall we?”

The evening, for the most part, was pretty uneventful. They had first stopped by a small bookstore near the town’s entrance, Ashe practically dragging both Byleth and Sylvain in behind him. He had walked out with a hefty stack of books, all bundled into a small sack the store owner had given them, and Byleth assumed he would’ve walked out with even more had he not put a cap on his student’s expenditure.

Byleth had bought a couple of books for himself, too. The first; a guide on how to properly care for your steed—which he had discreetly purchased while Ashe and Sylvain had still been browsing. The second, bought with monastery funds; a tactical guide on the effects of the terrain found in and around central Fódlan. With many of their mission destinations being something of a mystery to him until their arrival, he already knew the advantages this book would give them. It even came with a sizeable annotated map, which he could pin up either in the classroom or his own quarters.

Sylvain, of course, had bought nothing and, the second they had set foot outside, pulled the two of them along to their next destination: an oddly large tent situated at the end of a row of stalls.

Byleth peered through the open curtain, squinting at the items that aligned the shelves. “A travelling apothecary?” He shot Sylvain a skeptic look. “You’ve never mentioned an interest in anything medicinal before.”

Sylvain grinned. “I haven’t?” He moved towards the entrance, beckoning them in with a wave of his hand. “Well, in that case, let me introduce you to what you’ve been missing.”

Ashe gave a small huff, hesitating for a moment before following the cavalier. Byleth tailed behind.

One step in, and a concoction of smells hit him immediately, mixing between pleasant and downright gag-inducing as he wandered around the small shop—although the latter became less prominent the further he explored.

Next to him, Ashe gave a heavy groan, turning Byleth’s attention to him immediately. The archer simply inclined his head to where Sylvain stood at the counter. “I knew it.”

There he stood, leaning forward so much so that his elbows had hit the countertop, joking and flirting with the flustered apothecary who was quietly giggling behind her hand.

_Of course._

He refrained from sighing, instead choosing to turn back and inspect the various bottles lining the shelves. Despite his student’s intentions, the shop still had its merit after all.

Ashe had seemingly decided to join him, pointing out a few elixirs that caught his eye, either in regards to function or purely just for aesthetic reasons. 

One discounted box of various elixirs later, thanks to Sylvain’s ‘help’, they left the shop in good spirits. Byleth handed the box over to a nearby soldier, with orders to deliver it to the Blue Lions classroom. Ashe had also shyly handed over his sack of books, much to the soldier’s viable dread. They watched him stumble away, his balance being thrown off-kilter every few steps, before a wandering Shamir happened to be passing by and walked over to supply aid.

Then, after waiting in a longer queue than Byleth had expected, they walked into the restaurant and were seated at a cozy wooden table near the kitchen.

Byleth’s stomach gave a quiet, but audible growl, and he quickly pressed his hand down on it, glancing at the two students sitting across from him. Thankfully, they hadn’t seemed to notice, too busy engrossed in salivating over the food on a neighbouring table.

The evening continued with relative normalcy, with the exception of Ashe accidentally pouring a spoonful of scorching soup on himself when his chair was unintentionally nudged by another customer. Sylvain had fell into a brief laughing fit, and even Ashe had given a few chuckles as he tried to wipe the stain from his shirt. Byleth had simply continued to eat his food, quirking an eyebrow when he caught the two of them staring.

After finishing most of their food, they decided to call it a night. Sylvain opted to take the leftovers in a small box so that he could share amongst the rest of the class. The walk back to the monastery was filled with compliments of their meals, and, ever eager, Ashe vowed to perfect the recipe, with Sylvain offering to be his taste-tester. 

They arrived at Byleth’s quarters first, in which he offered his thanks for the evening and bid them a good night. A hand wrapping around his arm stopped him in his tracks.

Sylvain stared at him with a small smile and unreadable expression in his eyes. “We should do this again, Professor. It was nice to see you relax for a while, even if you didn’t show it.”

Byleth considered his words with a small tilt of his head. He did feel relaxed, in most senses of the word, but the latter part left him confused. He was confident that he hadn’t been frowning for most of the night—minus his exasperation with Sylvain’s flirting—or that his posture had been rigid and tight. In fact, under Sothis’ instruction, he had refrained from crossing his arms across his chest to look, in her words, _‘more approachable and less like a constant impression of a parent scolding their child’._

The pressure was gone from his arm a moment later as Sylvain stepped back, his usual grin back in place. “Anyway, I’m going to hand out some of this food before everyone hits the hay.” He turned his back and gave a small wave. “See you tomorrow, Professor.”

Ashe left with a polite bow soon after, and Byleth finally entered his room. His mindset immediately shifted back into ‘teaching-mode’, as Sothis had affectionately dubbed it, as his eyes caught the stack of assignments sitting on his desk, and he moved to prepare his documents for tomorrow.

* * *

Classes finished for the day, and Byleth was _exhausted_. Perhaps it was his own fault for agreeing with the students that they could tackle more demanding work, before they all promptly wandered up to his desk individually with a multitude of questions and concerns.

The first half of the class had been nothing against the standard procedure, but Ingrid raising her hand partway through to ask if more challenging topics were available, followed by agreement from Annette, then a similar chorus from the rest of the class, was his downfall. Even Sothis had complained she was getting a headache from being forced to listen to the students’ never-ending questions, while also trying to wrap her own head around the work.

Regardless, classes were over, meaning Byleth could retire to his quarters to allow his present headache to—

Someone cleared their throat from somewhere in front of him, and he looked up from where he had been organising what papers to take back with him. Two pairs of hopeful eyes stared back at him.

“Professor!” Ingrid beamed, looking awfully eager despite the last gruelling hour of class. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything planned for the rest of the afternoon, would you?”

Byleth held back a sigh and gave a simple shake of his head in reply.

“I see...” Ingrid deflated slightly, hesitation slipping into her tone. Perhaps he wasn’t doing such a great job in hiding his irritation after all. “I-I mean, that’s great! We were hoping you would accompany us to the training grounds. We believe that we have near perfected that parry you taught us last week and would like your opinion.”

“Of course, if you aren’t feeling up to it, please do not strain yourself for our sake,” Dimitri interjected from his place beside the girl. 

“It’s no trouble,” Byleth spoke, attempting to prevent his exhaustion from lacing into his tone. He stood up from the desk, much to the evident glee of the students. In fact, they looked similar to the excited puppies he had seen around the monastery whenever he would reach down to give them a few pats on the head.

The walk to the grounds was pretty uneventful. Although, they had bumped into Ignatz, to whom he returned an unfinished painted landscape he had found stuck between the hinges of the classroom’s door on the way out. The archer muttered out a flustered thanks, before dashing off in the opposite direction, painting clutched close to his chest.

Arriving at the training grounds, the first thing Byleth noticed was that every member of the Blue Lions was present. Annette, Mercedes, and Ashe looked up upon his arrival, smiling and giving small waves. Dedue had paused in his own training to give him a small nod in acknowledgement. Felix, who had yet to even glance in his direction, took this as an opening and rushed forward to land a jab on the unsuspecting student, only to be roughly countered by Dedue’s axe knocking the sword towards the ground.

A hand landing on his shoulder snapped Byleth from his musings, and he turned his head, a flash of red meeting his vision as Sylvain stepped past him. “Would you look at that? The whole gang’s here. Eager to train, are we?”

“Says the layabout who is never here,” Felix muttered, obviously still annoyed at his loss. He picked up a training lance, throwing it at the unsuspecting cavalier who fumbled in his attempt to catch it. “At least make yourself useful while you _are_ here and fight me.”

Sylvain groaned but moved into position nevertheless. “C’mon man, I just got here. Don’t you need a rest after fighting Dedue or something?”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

Byleth only managed to watch the first clash of weapons before his attention was being directed to the two students who had invited him in the first place, both of whom were currently in the midst of their routine warm-ups. Once complete, Dimitri and Ingrid looked eager to begin, the former failing to hide the slight bounce in his stance. 

“First to perform a successful parry wins,” Ingrid stated, gripping her lance tighter. Dimitri answered with a curt nod. “And let’s try to keep it to our side of the grounds. I’d rather not get roped into a three-on-one at Felix’s request.”

Byleth was about to comment on how they weren’t giving themselves much room in that respect, but the sound of their wooden lances knocking together cut him off.

The first few minutes were a mixture of swings, thrusts and blocks, and Byleth was impressed that they had, in fact, managed to stay within their given boundary. Not as though it mattered, since Sylvain had quickly opted out of Felix’s duel with the pretence of wanting to watch their friends’ competition. 

It was Dimitri who noticed the newly available space first. When Ingrid gave a wide swing of her lance, intending to force him into a block to which she would have the chance to disarm, he stepped back into the space to dodge, before sidling around to her open side and bringing his lance down near the base of her own.

With the combination of his speed and strength leaving her no opportunity to block or resist, she was forced to release her weapon against the weight, although not without a small huff of annoyance. It went skidding a small distance across the field until Felix stopped it with his foot.

“That was an admirable display from both of them,” Dedue spoke, his presence suddenly right next to Byleth. The professor couldn’t help but jump slightly, much to his embarrassment. Dedue didn’t comment on it. “They have been training for this, almost every day, ever since they left your lecture last week.”

Dedue was looking at him, expression blank as always, but Byleth couldn’t help but feel scrutinised under his gaze. Trying to remain impassive, he nodded and turned his attention back to the students in question. “Knowing them, I wouldn’t have expected any less.”

Dimitri had turned to face him now, breathing heavy with exertion but beaming with pride nevertheless. Ingrid had followed suit, turning with a small smile on her face, waiting for evaluation.

Byleth gave a small nod of approval, but otherwise didn’t move from his spot. “You both performed well. That small display alone showed me the depth of your training. I’m very impressed.”

Both students practically preened at the praise, and he heard a soft giggle from Mercedes as she watched on.

“Ingrid,” he addressed the pegasus knight, who immediately straightened from her relaxed posture, eyes serious. “Your apt for speed and skill was evident. However, you became too focused on your primary goal of catching Dimitri off guard and forcing him to defend that you failed to see, and make use of, the changing surroundings.” Noticing the girl’s stiff stance, he decided to move away from his criticism. “Besides that, everything else was very strong. Well done.”

Ingrid gave a sharp bow, expression determined. Byleth did always appreciate how the girl never took offence to his critiques, choosing to see them as stepping stones to improve, instead. “Understood, Professor!”

He turned his attention to the prince. “Your parry was very impressive, I must admit. You managed to work it into your own fighting style without allowing it to hinder your movements, which will prove life-saving on the battlefield. There may be times, however, where you cannot rely on your complacency to evade. Perhaps a lesson on how to counter—” His words faltered and trailed off upon seeing the boy’s expression.

While Dimitri had seemed to have taken the praise to heart based on the slight shine to his eyes, there was still a small downturn to his mouth that left Byleth concerned. He was sure he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary, nor anything that would have downplayed his achievements in any way.

It was only then that he noticed that all the eyes of the Blue Lions were trained upon him. That wave of confusion he had been feeling for the past week or so, washed over him again. At the back of his mind, Sothis gave a bewildered hum.

Eventually, an aggravated sigh from Felix cut through the silence. “Enough of this. I’m here to train, not gawk at a statue.” He knocked Sylvain over the head with the flat side of his training sword. “C’mon. You were actually starting to put up a good fight before you chickened out.”

Sylvain frowned. “I told you, I wanted to—” He shook his head and sighed. “Nevermind. You’re not gonna take ‘no’ for an answer, anyway. And hey, maybe a few battle scars will turn the heads of a couple of girls on my way to the dining hall.”

Felix’s fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword was Sylvain’s only warning before he charged forward, blade swinging high with no holds barred.

Ingrid sighed at their display, moving to retrieve her fallen lance. “If what he says is true, I hope Felix decides to go easy on him for once.” 

As if planned, Sylvain gave a loud yelp as Felix landed a particularly powerful hit on Sylvain’s side.

Ingrid’s shoulders slumped. “I should know better than to hope.”

* * *

The odd behaviour from his students at the training grounds had left him feeling puzzled, but he didn't have the luxury to focus on such trivial matters with the Battle of the Eagle and Lion on the horizon, especially since such behaviour didn’t seem to be affecting their work.

Sothis had attempted to settle his hidden worries, but her suggestions had been so fantastical that he couldn’t even try to take them seriously. She seemed pretty adamant on her _‘mass unknown illness sweeping across Garreg Mach’ _ theory, regardless.

But, right now, his current concern was the two students currently missing from the lecture he was about to begin.

His first warning sign had been Mercedes walking into class alone. She hadn’t looked frazzled or concerned as she sat down next to Ashe and gave a small wave to Byleth in greeting, so he hadn’t questioned it.

The second had been Sylvain _not_ being the last person to walk into class. He was never late to any of Byleth’s classes, but it wasn’t unusual for him to walk in a mere few minutes before it was due to start. Surprisingly, this time he had walked in alongside all three of his childhood friends, instead of giving his usual, fleeting farewell to a girl or two from a different house as he waltzed through the door.

The third and final sign had been the most prominent, with Dimitri walking up to his desk to voice his own concerns that he hadn’t seen either of the missing students since the beginning of lunch. When Byleth had agreed on the unusual circumstances of the situation, the young prince, starry-eyed and ever willing to assist, had offered to single-handedly scour the monastery. Byleth had gently denied that request.

Another tense five minutes passed. Concern began to etch itself onto the students' faces as they talked amongst themselves—with the exception of Felix, who looked irritated more than anything else.

Byleth cleared his throat to gather everyone’s attention, ready to postpone the class until he could track down the missing two students himself, but the classroom door flying open abruptly put a halt to those plans.

There was an odd dark mass running towards him.

“Professor!”

That odd dark mass had _Annette’s voice._

The only hint he needed was the thick smell of smoke and ash emanating from the girl, and everything pieced together immediately. It was only growing more potent the closer she got to his desk, and Dimitri was forced to turn away and cover his mouth, lest he hack up a lung.

Annette looked frantic, eyes darting from Byleth’s face, to the prince, and then to random points in the room. “We’re so sorry we’re late! We got caught up in a little, ah...mishap.”

“We?” Ingrid questioned, her brow furrowed.

“A _little_?” Sylvain echoed.

“Annie!” Mercedes ran up to her friend, hands hovering as she searched for injuries. Either the smell didn’t bother her, or her concern for Annette outweighed it. “What on earth happened? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Annette gave an awkward laugh. “I told you, it was just a small mishap. Oh, and probably a few singed hairs is all I’ll need to worry about!” 

Mercedes pouted, and a soft light enveloped her hands before washing over Annette. “You could have serious burns! And with how you look, who knows how much smoke you’ve inhaled.”

Annette winced and busied herself with brushing the ash from her face, most likely to avoid Mercedes' disapproving look. “A-Ah...I guess...”

Heavy footsteps caused everyone to glance towards the door once again. Ashe’s preemptive coughing was his only warning before Dedue, covered in the same mixture of ash and soot as Annette, stopped at his desk and gave a low bow.

“Apologies, Professor.” His voice was its usual monotone, despite the ridiculous circumstances. “Annette and I ran into a small problem in the kitchen.” He moved to wipe the small clump of ash irritating his eye. “But there is no need for concern—everything has been resolved. The kitchen staff are preparing for dinner as we speak.”

The room fell into a hush. 

Perhaps it was because of Ingrid’s sneeze awkwardly breaking the silence, or Sylvain’s failed attempts to contain his laughter, but Byleth couldn’t help but give a small chuckle of his own at the absurdity. He waved his hand in dismissal. “As long as no-one is hurt. Although, I would ask you both to clean up before we begin, and be quick about it—”

_Oh Goddess_, they were all staring at him again.

But this time, shock coated every single one of his students’ expressions. Even Dedue, stoic in the face of most people, had his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape.

Sothis was quick to reinforce her theory, and Byleth mentally attempted to shush her. 

“Oh wow,” Mercedes spoke, snapping Byleth’s attention towards her. Her eyes were sparkling with awe, as if a divine entity itself had manifested in front of her. Byleth was almost tempted to turn to see if Sothis, for some reason, had decided to make her presence known.

Felix was the first to snap out of the strange stupor, once again becoming impassive. A smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth, however. “Huh. Guess the boar wasn’t lying after all.”

“Who would’ve guessed?” Sylvain leaned forward in his seat with a wide grin. “His Highness was right—you do have a nice smile.”

Dimitri whipped around to face the cavalier, mortification plastered across every inch of his face. _“Sylvain!”_

Sothis made a small noise of realisation. Byleth, however, was still at a complete loss.

“Sorry, Professor,” Ingrid said, trying to compose herself. “It’s just that...we’ve never seen you laugh, or even smile before.”

…_Oh._

“And you have a great one, Professor,” Annette chirped, her hands balled together in excitement. “You should show it off more!”

Thinking back, had he really never smiled in front of his students in the over half a year he had been teaching at the Garreg Mach? He did recall Dimitri commenting on it after they had rescued Flayn, but hadn’t thought much of it afterwards, too preoccupied with making visits to the monastery officials to give his report on the kidnapping. Yet, it wasn’t as if he had been intentionally holding back. Trying to express emotions that were practically non-existent to him in every way shape and form wasn’t exactly an easy feat.

But looking at the students now, he couldn’t help but feel as if the air around him had become lighter as a result of his inadvertent gesture. Perhaps the safe return of two classmates had played a part in the relaxed atmosphere, too, but regardless of cause, Byleth found he rather quite liked the feeling. It was as if he had broken down an invisible wall that had been keeping him separate from the Blue Lions—like they had achieved a new sense of comradery.

There was a sudden gnawing of guilt, and he frowned, hands tightening on the edge of his desk. “You have my apologies. It never occurred to me that you all had been paying such close attention, only to feel discontent with the results.”

“No, Professor, please don’t apologise,” Ashe hurriedly interjected. “You have no reason to.” As if a sudden wave of bashfulness washed over him, he flushed and ducked his head. “It’s just...y’know, nice to see another side of you.”

“I agree,” Dimitri said, his own smile exuding the same warmth it did back in Jeritza’s room. “Seeing you content like this gives us all a great sense of ease.”

_“Huh. Who knew your well-being meant so much to them. Perhaps I judged them unfairly,”_ Sothis wondered aloud. _“In any case, I guess this means you’ll have to make an attempt to smile more.”_

He hummed quietly in reply. While there was no guarantee he would be able to exhibit such a smile at every opportunity his students’ sought; at least not without it looking like an empty grimace, seeing the easy smiles and admiration in their eyes was enough to push him to give that extra effort and try.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by Ingrid sneezing once again, this one more forceful than the last. Ashe was quick to follow suit with a violent sneeze of his own.

Annette giggled behind her hand and moved to nudge Dedue’s arm with her own. “I believe that’s our cue to take the professor’s advice and go clean up.” She turned to Byleth and bowed. “Please excuse us.”

Byleth watched them go with a small smile, content in listening to quiet chuckles of his students as they moved to prepare themselves for class to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading what basically amounts to my Blue Lions love mail!  
In all seriousness, I hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
